


Lamentations

by clgfanfic



Category: War of the Worlds (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-02-21
Packaged: 2017-11-30 00:32:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/693297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A missing scene from the episode "A Multitude of Idols."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lamentations

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Green Floating Weirdness #13 under the pen name Llyr Chaves.

_"Whose idea do you think this was?"_

 

          Sitting on the patio, staring out at the quiet pond, Debi McCullough contemplated what it meant to turn twelve years of age.

          It meant she was a year closer to the enviable position of a teenager.  A status that would be cemented in twelve more months when she turned thirteen and could finally stay up until 10 p.m.

          It meant 7th grade would be starting as soon as her birthday and Labor day were past.  She dreaded the long drive every morning, but where they lived there were no buses to pick her up and no other kids to play with after school.

          And it would be a new school.  No friends, no secret places on the playground to hide and talk with Heidi, no summer projects like in grade school…

          It meant she'd have to go to High School year after next year.  She'd have to take lots of classes and get good grades.  She'd have to do lots of activities so she could stay on campus with the other kids because she couldn't bring them home because she lived in the middle of nowhere with a houseful of crazy adults…

          She sighed.

          It meant that she got a raise in her allowance – from $5 a week to $7.  Not even enough to cover inflation, but better than nothing – maybe.  Not that she had anywhere to spend the windfall.  There were no malls, no stores, no movie theaters, no arcades, no _nothing_ , just a lot of trees, a pond, and the beach.

          And the horses, she grudgingly allowed.  At least she had them to keep her company.

          She sighed.

          It meant her mother would tell her that, since she was older, she should have more responsibilities.  That meant more stupid things to do, like making her bed every day – she slept in it every night, so she really didn't see the point of the exercise.

          And doing the dishes every other night instead of once a week – so why did they have a dishwashing machine when no one used it?

          And taking out the trash on the weekends.  Yuck.

          And helping Mrs. Pennyworth with the laundry, which was okay because the older woman always had cookies waiting when she was done.

          And dusting and vacuuming.  Double yuck.

          And who knew what other tortures her mother could devise.

          She sighed.

          It meant that she'd probably get her period and have to do all the stupid, icky things that Mrs. Hallverston told them about in health last year.  Not to mention having to shave her legs and underarms.  A completely dumb thing to do, but the boys in junior high all thought you had some kind of disease if you didn't.

          It meant she'd probably be too old to sneak into the movies on a child's ticket, which meant she couldn't buy red vines _and_ popcorn and coke.  So no more using the vines like a straw and then eating them when they got gooey.

          It just wasn't fair.

          It meant she'd have to get a training bra, and put up with all the boys in class teasing her because she was getting boobs.

          No doubt about it.  Turning twelve meant life was going to be the pits.

          Twelve.

          Who needed it?

          She sighed.

          "Hey, what's up?"

          She turned.  "Hi, Norton."

          The hacker rolled closer.  "Birthday girl feelin' blue?"

          Debi shrugged, watching the swan making his way across the pond.  "I guess so."

          He grinned.  "It's not that bad."

          "Yes, it is."

          "Not as bad as thirty."

          "Bad enough."

          "Well, don't forget, we're going out to dinner tonight to celebrate, and when we get back, I'll let you beat me in a game of Bozzer and the Brick Bats."

          "Great," she breathed, unable to work up her usual enthusiasm for annihilating Norton mano-a-mano in their bouts of BABB.

          "Gertrude, back to work!" he commanded and the motorized wheelchair carried him away, leaving her alone again.

          Twelve.

          Six more years and she'd be graduating from high school and she'd have to get a job, or go to college… or get married.

          Life just wasn't fair.

          Why couldn't she just have fun like every other kid on the planet?  Why was she stuck in some kind of a high tech prison?

          "Chicken?"

          "Yeah, Mom?" she called without turning.

          "What are you doing?" Suzanne asked, stepping out to join her daughter.

          "Nothing."

          The microbiologist's eyebrows pitched downward.  "Nothing?"

          "Nothing."

          "I see."  Suzanne sat down next to her daughter.  "Want to talk?"

          "No."

          "Okay," she replied, searching for a line to get past her daughter's defenses.  "Have you decided where you'd like to go tonight?"

          Debi folded her arms across her chest and gave her mother a stern pout.  "No."

          "I see," Suzanne said, trying not to smile.

          "I don't know any places around here," Debi almost whined.  "I want to go to Domiano's, but that's back in Ohio."

          "I'm sure we could find another Italian restaurant—"

          "It's not the same."

          "I know, sweetheart, but—"

          "And what about Daddy?  How's he going to call me if he doesn't know where I am?"

          Suzanne looked off, watching the single swan glide noiselessly across the pond. "If your father calls, it'll be forwarded to us, but I wouldn't hold my breath."

          Debi's pout deepened.  "He probably sent me something, but it'll get lost in the mail trying to find me."

          "It might be a little late, but if he did send something, it will get here.  We're not in another country."

          "It feels like we are."

          Suzanne scooted closer and wrapped an arm around her daughter's shoulders. "I know, but it's—"

          "For a good reason.  I know.  You told me.  Several times."

          "It's the truth."

          Debi looked up at her mother, blue eyes serious.  "I know.  I really do, but sometimes I feel like I'm on another planet.  There's nothing to do."

          "You have your schoolwork, and the horses, and the computer, and—"

          "I know, but there aren't any kids."  Debi pulled free and swung around to face Suzanne.  "Mom, I know what I want for my birthday."

          "What?" Suzanne asked, knowing she was probably going to have to say no.

          "I want to go to junior high like everybody else."

          "I thought you said you _didn't_ want—"

          "I know I did, but I've been thinking about it and I want to go."

          "Even with the ground rules we talked about?"

          Debi nodded.

          "Okay, I think that can be arranged," she said, giving in to a demand that she had planned to inflict on her daughter regardless.

          "Thanks, Mom," Debi said, leaning forward to give her a brief hug.

          "Now, you think about where we're going.  I have to go take some slides out."

          "Okay."

          "There you are," Harrison said, stepping out onto the patio.  "Your timer went off."

          "I'm on my way," Suzanne said, brushing past him and disappearing.

          Harrison grinned at Debi.  "So, the big one-two, huh?"

          "It's not so big," Debi said.  "I still can't drive."

          Harrison nodded knowingly.  "I remember."

          "Really?" she asked.

          He nodded again.

          "Everything's changing."

          Blackwood plopped down on the bench and stretched out his legs, crossing his ankles.  "Change isn't always a bad thing."

          "It is when you're twelve," Debi informed him.

          "I suppose it is," he said and chuckled.  "But just think, you're a year closer to getting your driving permit."

          "I guess."  She bent over and picked up a fallen leaf, folding it into a tiny square.  "But Mom won't have time to teach me to drive.  She'll have slides to take out and things to look at."

          "Well," he said, reaching over to slap her thigh.  "If she doesn't have time, I'm sure the colonel will."

          "Really?" Debi asked, her spirits lifting slightly.

          "Yep," Harrison said, pushing himself off the bench.

          "Cool," she breathed with a smile.  "Do you think he'll let me start my lessons early?"

          "Fifteen and a half," Harrison told her, walking back toward the French doors.  "That's the law."

          "Stupid law," Debi stated as he disappeared inside.

          She turned back to watch the swan.  It was getting cooler, the sun slipping closer to the horizon, and she wished she was down at the beach so she could watch the sun disappear into the Pacific.  Another hour and she'd have to go get ready for dinner.

          And decide where she wanted to go.

 _Home_ , she decided.  But where was that?

          Tears filled her eyes, but didn't fall.  Why hadn't he called?  Even if he couldn't send her anything, there was no reason why he couldn't call.

          Wasn't that what dads did?

          Cash McCullough really wasn't a very good dad.

          He was the one who always took her to his favorite Italian restaurant for her birthday.  She didn't really like the food, except the pizza.

          Maybe she'd ask if they could go get pizza.

          No, they got pizza all the time.

 _Maybe Chinese food_ , she thought.  They hadn't gotten that for a while.

          Or maybe hamburgers.

          Why did _she_ have to decide?  Dads were supposed to take their daughters out for their birthdays.  End of discussion.  Daughters did _not_ pick the location.

          She rubbed the back of her hand over her eyes, pushing the tears into her eyelashes and sniffed.

          It wasn't fair.

          Twelve was the pits.

          "There you are…"

          Afraid to turn around, Debi continued staring out at the pond as the colonel sat down beside her.

          "I was looking for you," he said.

          "Oh?" she said, rubbing the bottom of her sneakers on the cement.

          "I wanted to give you something."

          She glanced quickly to see what the gift was.  A large box sat on the bench between them.

          Debi swiveled around.  "What is it?"

          Ironhorse smiled, the lopsided grin making her smile as well.  "I was talking to my mother, and I mentioned that you were turning twelve."

          "You did?"

          He nodded.  "It's a very important birthday.  Anyway, she sent this for you."

          The blue eyes widened.  "She did?"

          "Yep."  He pushed it closer.  "Open it."

          Debi reached out and lifted the box lid.  White tissue covered the contents and she let the top fall so she could pull back the thin paper.  "It's beautiful," she breathed, lifting out a colorful ribbon dress.

          At the bottom of the box was a small card.  Carefully handing Ironhorse the dress, Debi picked up the card and opened it.  The inscription read:  Debi, a very happy twelfth birthday.  Love, Hanna Ironhorse.

          "Among the Cherokee, a girl's twelfth birthday is very special," he said, handing back the dress.  "It marks her transition from a child to a young woman.  An older woman in the community would make her a ribbon dress to celebrate the occasion."

          "It's really beautiful," Debi said, admiring the colors and ribbons that decorated the soft cotton fabric.  "I'm going to wear it to dinner tonight."

          "Have you decided where you want to go?" he asked.

          Debi shook her head.  "My dad always picked."

          "I see.  Would you like me to give you a few choices?"

          She shook her head.  "Can you pick?" she asked.  "Wherever you decide, it'll be okay."

          The imploring expression was enough to win his cooperation.  "If you're sure?"

          "I'm sure."

          "You bet, then.  Now, you go get ready and I'll round up the others."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Debi sat proudly at the long polished oak table.  Light from the candles on the table danced in the colors of her ribbon dress.

          "Happy birthday," Harrison said, raising his glass of wine in a toast, the others followed suit, Debi lifting her Shirley Temple.  The glasses chimed.

          "Now, before you open your presents," the colonel said.  "There's another custom you have to learn."

          "Cherokee?" she asked.

          "No, Army," he said, standing.  Walking to her chair he pulled it out for her.

          "What?" she asked, confused.

          "A dance," he said, watching her blush.

          "But—"

          "This way, Miss McCullough," Ironhorse said, leading her off to the Officers' Club dance floor.

          The three civilians watched them go.

          "Whose idea do you think this was?" Harrison asked.

          "With Debi, who knows," Suzanne replied.  "I just wish Cash had called, or sent a card, or something."

          Norton grinned.  "Funny, I don't think she noticed."

          "She did, but this took the sting out of it," Suzanne said.  "It's funny, but Paul's been a better father to her over the last three months than Cash was in eleven years."

          "Our colonel is just full of surprises," Harrison said.  "And this is just the beginning."


End file.
